As the Gathering broke up and the Clans swished away through the long grass, Squirrelflight hung back, not wanting to leave yet. This was the first Gathering she’d been to without her sister. Bramblestar had stopped at the edge of the deserted clearing as Jayfeather, Thornclaw, and Lionblaze followed their Clanmates to the tree-bridge. “Are you coming?” he called to her.
“I need a moment to remember Leafpool,” she told him.
Bramblestar padded to join her. His pelt brushed hers as he stood beside her. The wind was chilly, and she leaned against him, relishing his warmth.
“I’m glad we’re not arguing anymore,” she breathed.
“So am I.” He touched his muzzle to her ear. “I don’t know what I would have done if you’d died. I don’t think I could’ve gone on without you.”
“Of course you could.” She nuzzled his cheek. “Your Clan needs you. I know you would never let them down.”
“I’m only strong because of you.” A purr throbbed in his throat. “Promise me we’ll never argue like that again. That we’ll always talk things out before they get too bad.”
She looked into his eyes. “You have to trust me,” she murmured. “You must always know that you and ThunderClan are the most important things to me. I would never let you down.”
“I know,” he breathed. “And I’m sorry I ever doubted you. Ever since you were an apprentice, you’ve challenged me. And it’s always made me stronger. You’ve helped me see things in a different way.” His gaze shone and she shivered, sensing his love like a breeze enfolding her.
“Look.” He looked up. “Is that a new star?”
She followed his gaze into the star-specked sky. A bright star glinted among the others. Her heart quickened. “Do you think it’s her?”
“Leafpool?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know, but I know she’s watching over you.” Bramblestar pressed closer.
“She’s watching over the whole Clan.” A lump pressed in Squirrelflight’s throat. “She always will.”
READ ON FOR AN EXCLUSIVE MANGA ADVENTURE …
CREATED BY
ERIN HUNTER
WRITTEN BY
DAN JOLLEY
ART BY
JAMES L. BARRY
Excerpt from Bravelands #1: Broken Pride
CHAPTER ONE
Swiftcub pounced after the vulture’s shadow, but it flitted away too quickly to follow. Breathing hard, he pranced back to his pride. I saw that bird off our territory, he thought, delighted. No rot-eater’s going to come near Gallantpride while I’m around!
The pride needed him to defend it, Swiftcub thought, picking up his paws and strutting around his family. Why, right now they were all half asleep, dozing and basking in the shade of the acacia trees. The most energetic thing the other lions were doing was lifting their heads to groom their nearest neighbors, or their own paws. They had no idea of the threat Swiftcub had just banished.
I might be only a few moons old, but my father is the strongest, bravest lion in Bravelands. And I’m going to be just like him!
“Swiftcub!”
The gentle but commanding voice snapped him out of his dreams of glory. He came to a halt, turning and flicking his ears at the regal lioness who stood over him.
“Mother,” he said, shifting on his paws.
“Why are you shouting at vultures?” Swift scolded him fondly, licking at his ears. “They’re nothing but scavengers. Come on, you and your sister can play later. Right now you’re supposed to be practicing hunting. And if you’re going to catch anything, you’ll need to keep your eyes on the prey, not on the sky!”
“Sorry, Mother.” Guiltily he padded after her as she led him through the dry grass, her tail swishing. The ground rose gently, and Swiftcub had to trot to keep up. The grasses tickled his nose, and he was so focused on trying not to sneeze, he almost bumped into his mother’s haunches as she crouched.
“Oops,” he growled.
Valor shot him a glare. His older sister was hunched a little to the left of their mother, fully focused on their hunting practice. Valor’s sleek body was low to the ground, her muscles tense; as she moved one paw forward with the utmost caution, Swiftcub tried to copy her, though it was hard to keep up on his much shorter legs. One creeping pace, then two. Then another.
I’m being very quiet, just like Valor. I’m going to be a great hunter. He slunk up alongside his mother, who remained quite still.
“There, Swiftcub,” she murmured. “Do you see the burrows?”
He did, now. Ahead of the three lions, the ground rose up even higher, into a bare, sandy mound dotted with small shadowy holes. As Swiftcub watched, a small nose and whiskers poked out, testing the air. The meerkat emerged completely, stood up on its hind legs, and stared around. Satisfied, it stuck out a pink tongue and began to groom its chest, as more meerkats appeared beyond it. Growing in confidence, they scurried farther away from their burrows.
“Careful now,” rumbled Swift. “They’re very quick. Go!”
Swiftcub sprang forward, his little paws bounding over the ground. Still, he wasn’t fast enough to outpace Valor, who was far ahead of him already. A stab of disappointment spoiled his excitement, and suddenly it was even harder to run fast, but he ran grimly after his sister.
The startled meerkats were already doubling back into their holes. Stubby tails flicked and vanished; the bigger leader, his round dark eyes glaring at the oncoming lions, was last to twist and dash underground. Valor’s jaws snapped at his tail, just missing.
“Sky and stone!” the bigger cub swore, coming to a halt in a cloud of dust. She shook her head furiously and licked her jaws. “I nearly had it!”
A rumble of laughter made Swiftcub turn. His father, Gallant, stood watching them. Swiftcub couldn’t help but feel the usual twinge of awe mixed in with his delight. Black-maned and huge, his sleek fur glowing golden in the sun, Gallant would have been intimidating if Swiftcub hadn’t known and loved him so well. Swift rose to her paws and greeted the great lion affectionately, rubbing his maned neck with her head.
“It was a good attempt, Valor,” Gallant reassured his daughter. “What Swift said is true: meerkats are very hard to catch. You were so close—one day you’ll be as fine a hunter as your mother.” He nuzzled Swift and licked her neck.
“I wasn’t anywhere near it,” grumbled Swiftcub. “I’ll never be as fast as Valor.”
“Oh, you will,” said Gallant. “Don’t forget, Valor’s a whole year older than you, my son. You’re getting bigger and faster every day. Be patient!” He stepped closer, leaning in so his great tawny muzzle brushed Swiftcub’s own. “That’s the secret to stalking, too. Learn patience, and one day you too will be a very fine hunter.”
“I hope so,” said Swiftcub meekly.
Gallant nuzzled him. “Don’t doubt yourself, my cub. You’re going to be a great lion and the best kind of leader: one who keeps his own pride safe and content, but puts fear into the heart of his strongest enemy!”
That does sound good! Feeling much better, Swiftcub nodded. Gallant nipped affectionately at the tufty fur on top of his head and padded toward Valor.
Swiftcub watched him proudly. He’s right, of course. Father knows everything! And I will be a great hunter, I will. And a brave, strong leader—